Cloth
by Lectictinium
Summary: (Fakiru Week 2013 Day 4 - Cloth) A dinner was all Fakiru wanted, just a little celebration, but of course Ahiru wasn't going to make it easy for him. He'd just have to improvise.


The candles Fakir had picked to stand proudly on the table in a forked stand of polished brass he'd written into existence - he'd wanted something personal, something engraved that depicted _their_ tale, not random swirls - were a deep red. It reminded him of wine or blood or cherries. He'd picked that colour because he wasn't good with words and he hoped the meaning would come across. He wasn't good with flowers, either. Ahiru often teased him about that, since he could never present her with a rose or a bouquet of any kind without having to stand elsewhere to stop his eyes watering and his nose from itching.

He was stressing out a lot too, over the arrangements of the table and whether Ahiru would like the food or the surprise meal in question or even if she would even turn up on time. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and breathed out hesitantly, wiping his hands on his trousers. A few minutes until six. Ahiru shouldn't get here for -

There was a knock at the door.

Another few minutes… his thoughts trailed off and with a quick check to see that the food was almost done - it was, luckily - he answered, ending a stream of hurried knocks at the door. Ahiru… early? Those two sentences never went together.

He opened it as was greeted with a beaming face and a small hug.

"Hello Fakir! Sorry I'm late, Pique and Lilie were being so mean and then I _couldn't _just leave that cat back there without petting it and Canary Mama's babies came to visit and-" she took a deep breath and Fakir placed a finger to her lips to stop her before she continued.

"You're actually a minute early, silly."

"Oh… I thought you asked me to be here at half past five?"

He shook his head. She was hopeless. He supposed that just added to her cuteness.

"Oh. Well that's good then!" She tipped up onto her toes, then peered around his waist - how was he so tall? - to have a peek inside the dark house. "Wow, are those candles? Why do we have candles Fakir? I know you asked me to wear something nice but I didn't want to get it dirty on the way so I have it here." She held up a large paper bag. "Are we going out?"

"No, um, you'll see." He raised his brows and hoped he came across as a little mysterious. She nodded with a muttered 'ooooh' and stepped under Fakir's arm with ease. He shut the door and directed her in a rush to his room.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Ahiru. Just get ready in there and, um, call out when you're done, okay?" He blushed as she tilted her head in curiosity and smiled again.

"Okay!" She closed the door and set her bag down, looking around Fakir's room. She'd been here before for many an occasion, but she always liked looking at his things. A humble chest of drawers, a very comfy and silent double bed, a large wardrobe with a mirror on the inside of one door, and several pictures hung on the walls. There was a manuscript on his writing desk which she didn't read, as she knew he disliked it when she looked at his unfinished work, and her gaze wandered to the many books on his oak bookshelf.

She smiled at how neat they were, how clean and straight their spines were and ran her fingers along one leatherbound volume before turning to undress herself.

Fakir meanwhile was turning off the flow of gas that kept the water at a simmer and recoiling at the rush of hot air as he it the logs prepared in the stove. He was not fond of fire, or heat in too short, sudden bursts. They reminded him too much of talons.

He served up the dinner he'd prepared - nothing extravagant, though it was a special occasion so he hadn't just cooked up the first easy thing available. There was soup, which he hoped in particular she would like, of course served with fresh bread - Ahiru obviously kept some of her more subtle duck-like features as well as the obvious ones. He'd roasted potatoes and cooked vegetables and he'd also prepared fish since sometimes Ahiru became wistful when eating chicken or other kinds of bird. He'd thought about getting some wine, since there was no harm in indulging every once in a while since she was allowed to drink now anyway, but alcohol and Ahiru didn't mix too well so he had avoided it tonight. Besides, they didn't need to drink. It may even interfere with what would, erm, hopefully come later.

Fakir snapped out of his daydreaming with a shake of the head and scowled at how carried away his thoughts had become. He laid the plates and the cutlery and lit the candles. They did actually smell faintly fruity. He wondered if the scent had been infused into the wick or wax. He shrugged. He wasn't an expert in candle making.

When he nodded a satisfied nod, hands on his hips, he looked to the clock ticking quietly and read the time as ten past the hour. Should it even take ten minutes to take off one dress and put on another? Fakir put the thought from his mind. Women took some time to get ready for things they thought were important, he had been told, though Ahiru just took a lot of time doing anything because of how distracted she could become, so he didn't know how true that statement was. He though it rather unfair. Surely a man could take just as long too? He supposed he should consider it a compliment if it was indeed true, since that would mean Ahiru really was looking forward to this. He smiled, chuckling quietly to himself as he drummed his fingers against the clean, white tablecloth he'd laid down over the oak table. Usually he didn't bother with one but, again, it was a special occasion. And yet another reason why wine would be a bad idea.

His gaze wandered from the steam curling off his plate to the shrinking candles, filling the air with a sweet smell and a soft glow that tinted his face and created a lovely atmosphere. The room wasn't very bright from just the light of the candles and the fire in the pot-belly stove sitting at the far end of the room was dim through the grates, but he felt that this halo of light was perfect for just enveloping the both of them. Cold exterior he may have, but he was secretly a romanticist. He just hadn't had a reason to put this into practice before.

He felt a yawn bubbling through him and when he blinked himself out of his daze it was now twenty minutes since he had finished setting everything up. There had only been the occasional bump from the room next door, which was followed with a soft moan of irritation and pain, so Fakir had simply shrugged and let Ahiru get on with whatever it was she was doing. Presumably banging her head or elbow or other limb wasn't part of it.

How could she still be in his bedroom after half an hour? It made no sense. He grew irritated. He'd tried to get everything done so that Ahiru could arrive and they'd have a pleasant evening and yet… No he shouldn't get so frustrated. This was _Ahiru_ they were talking about. She was as uncoordinated as they came. She was probably struggling with a clasp somewhere or something and didn't want to bother Fakir by asking for help. At least she was persistent, that he couldn't deny, and as autonomous as she could be. She tried not to be a nuisance on rely on the generosity or ability of others to get things done. She accepted her limits for what they were, and saw no point in trying to push them or do things outside of them. Unless it was for someone else's sake. She would break her back for that cause. Fakir was reminded grimly of that night years ago. He didn't like thinking about what could have happened if she had not been strong enough to endure the wrath of the Raven in such a small body… But she had been, and he was certain that what she lacked in ability she made up for in perseverance. And she didn't resign to being a duck forever even though she was content with it… It was sheer luck he'd managed to return her to human form since them, and she was ever so grateful for that.

Clearly it was a perseverance that lasted for the better part of an hour. He slammed his fist on the table. What on earth was going on?

"Oh. Erm Fakir?" A hesitant voice called out at last from the bedroom. He groaned in frustration and hoped this would be an explanation as to why this was taking so long.

"Ahiru," he called, just about managing to keep his voice level. "You okay?"

"Yes. It's just… my dress."

"What?" He opened the door and was greeted with a wail, followed by a flurry of apologies and a thud as Ahiru sped quickly to the door and slammed against it. This didn't achieve her goal of closing it, as Fakir's foot was in the way, and was now blazing in pain and causing him to swear in a very colourful way under his breath.

"Ehh? Fakir! I'm so sorry!" He heard her say. He hissed and forced out a 'no, it's okay' before swearing again because when she wanted to slam doors Ahiru could really slam doors. The power she exerted didn't seem at all appropriate for her tiny body.

"Wh- urgh - what's wrong?" He spoke through gritted teeth and tried to peer round the door again. "Open the door."

"Hrm," she whimpered, and begrudgingly did so, allowing him to hop through and relieve the weight of his body off of his injured foot. He sighed and turned to her, reeling back in embarrassment at her lack of clothing, spluttering and going red. It wasn't like he hadn't seen naked before, he just wasn't expecting her slim and freckled form to be laid bare.

"P-put some clothes on!" He covered his eyes and felt his hands were war and sweaty. Ahiru wriggled around, flapping her arms in her duck-like fashion, and insisted again.

"But my dress!"

He peeked and followed her arm to where she was pointing to a bundle of rags on the floor. Presumably that tattered and stained mess had been the dress she had brought round.

"What happened?" He avoided looking at her as she blustered and finally resigned to truthful explanation, scratching the back of her head as she did so.

"I, erm, left some food out for the birds while I was doing my hair in the mirror and when I turned around…"

"Idiot." _You brought bird food with you?_ He didn't bother voicing that question.

She blushed, looking at her feet. Oh, she had done her hair up nicely, hadn't she? Fakir liked it when her hair was loose and framed her face, but the way she'd plaited it and tied it into loops on her head was interesting. That also explained the small rips and feathers dotted on the silken outfit she'd flung carelessly onto the floor. "I forgot the dress was there so…"

"Then why aren't you wearing any clothes at all? Where are your… undergarments?"

"Huh? Oh." She looked down at her chest with a giggle. "I forgot to put on a bra today?"

"That doesn't explain the lower half."

"W-well I… I wanted to put on a nicer pair when I got here, you know?" She said bashfully, curling her toes into the floor and looking away. The words seemed to skip his brain and head for his groin before he caught himself. Fakir mouthed a silent 'oh' after a moment of thinking through the words, and felt his face light up anew. He coughed drily and made a show of clearing his throat out of embarrassment and only managed to speak in small bursts.

"Oh. Uhm… er… that's very… I mean, you… you have to wear something… for dinner…"

"We could skip dinner?" Fakir had never before heard a voice like that. He'd say it was… sly. Suggestive but yet utterly innocent. Whatever it was it caused his brain to melt slightly, his heart more so, and he felt a little light-headed at the prospect.

"That's an option… but we're not going to take it!" he hastily corrected himself. He'd worked hard to make a nice dinner and prepare everything so it would be a shame to waste it. He frowned and looked about. "Don't you have the clothes you were wearing when you came here?"

Her answering smile told him all he needed to know. They'd met the same fate.

"Well I could go out and…"

"But its dark now! You can't just leave me here…" She pouted, lower lip trembling.

"I'm not going to leave you or anything… I…" He frowned again and reached out to pat her head tenderly. "I'll think of something…" He could try writing a dress into existence, since it was for Ahiru and so his abilities would work as they did when he dedicated the description of the candelabra to her, but that had taken some time to get right - he had an interesting pile of metal lumps stashed away in his drawers now - and he didn't want to waste time. Looking back through the doorway at the table laden with food an obscure idea blossomed in his mind.

"Hold on a moment…" this was crazy but it could do as a suitable substitute since Fakir did not have any clothes for her here.

He moved the plates off of the table and swept the cloth into his arms, slinging it over one arm and walking back to Ahiru, who was crossing her arms over her chest sat on the bed. She looked up in confusion, spotting the fabric in his arms.

"What's that?"

"The, um, tablecloth. You could wrap it around yourself or… I don't know, idiot," he snapped. "Pretend you're a Roman."

She looked stunned for a moment but then laughed, a giggle at first that led to her falling back onto the bed clutching her stomach. Fakir was taken aback and tried to speak through the gaps in her laughter, blushing furiously.

"What?"

"It- It's just so silly! Fakir, you're awfully funny! But than- thank you. Haaah, it's very sweet of you. But I've never actually worn a tablecloth before so how would you do it?" She sat back up and wiped a stray tear from her eyes. Fakir motioned for her to stand up, all the while trying to avoid looking at her still naked form. She seemed to have gotten over the initial shock of it and was acting no differently than usual.

"Oh come on Fakir. You've seen me naked before," she chuckled as he averted his gaze.

"Well, that's only… We're not doing anything like that."

"Not yet," she prompted gently, half-closing her eyes. She could pull of the innocent, coy act well, but her expression didn't really work. Fakir blushed anyway.

"Don't say such stupid things… Hrm." He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Turn around."

The tablecloth wasn't exactly large but Ahiru was very petite, and that worked in Fakir's favour as he tied a knot at the nape of her neck, and then at her waist so that her back was exposed and most of one leg. He couldn't help but stare at it for a second, thinking how smooth and strong it was. She was not the greatest of dancers, but she had improved dramatically since when the first met. That leg, that foot could hold her aloft for minutes at a time without falter. _En pointe_ had been one of her greatest achievements.

"Is that okay?" He enquired nervously, hoping he'd secured the knots tightly enough that they wouldn't come undone, and she twirled on the spot, checking herself in the mirror. She pouted as she looked over her back, and angled herself so her reflection showed her what she couldn't easily see. She smiled at her doppelganger trapped in the glass, then at Fakir.

"It's fine. I guess I must look weird but it's better than nothing!"

"No you look… you look lovely, Ahiru."

Her answering smile was small and bashful. "Thank you."

She hurried to his side and took his hand in hers. "What is it we were going to do?"

"Oh, um. I made us dinner." Her eyes widened. "Because it's… well. It's our anniversary and I just wanted to surprise you."

She was quiet and then she threw her arms around him and peppered his cheeks with kissed. "That's so sweet! I didn't think you would do something like this! Wow Fakir you really are so kind. I'm really hungry, too, so this will be great!" Her eyes were sparkling when Fakir finally prized her off of him. He made some comment about not simply throwing yourself about like that and led her to the table. The candlelight was comforting, and indeed it did lock just the two of them in a small sphere of orange light. Ahiru babbled on and on as they ate, and Fakir listened to her with only the occasional comment, watching with contentment.

When it was over Ahiru sighed and looked at Fakir with a gentle smile. "What now?"

"Hm?"

"The dinner was really lovely. I think this has been a really nice way to spend out anniversary… but what else did you have planned?"

"Oh…" He'd wanted to move things to a more private, intimate location, but he wasn't sure how to go about doing that. Normally it just kid of happened. He spotted a fleck of something a the corner of Ahiru's mouth and moved round the table to lift it away with a finger. His thumb paused at her lip, and she bat her eyelids, waiting expectantly. He didn't disappoint. He pulled her up and then round into his arms, kissing hesitantly, but only the once as Ahiru spun away from him, still holding his hadn't, and curtseyed. He grinned and they fell into step with each other as naturally as breathing. She spun elegantly the folds of the cloth billowing out like a ball gown, and her bare feet tapping lightly on the floor. It seemed fitting that they should dance on their anniversary, as passionately as they had done in the past, tenderness and love out in the open this time, and when Ahiru leant back with Fakir's arm to support her and her makeshift dress fell away it seemed only fitting, as they were already claiming one another's lips.

* * *

_I... I don't know? This one isn't that great but I snuck in a reference for my favourite anime so meh._


End file.
